To Hell and Back Again
by zedrobber
Summary: Spock is lost on a routine mission; Jim blames himself and will do anything to get him back. Angst, majorly. Graphic injury, torture, sex, violence, possible triggers for the former. Leading on to actual plot! K/S so slash, obviously.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:**

**My apologies for the unintentional short hiatus! I began writing this fic and just sort of got stuck somewhere- so I'm starting to publish it in the hope it will urge me on to finishing it. I know where it's going, it's just getting there that's the problem. Thank you to ALL who have reviewed my fics in the meantime and to everyone still with me.**

He should have seen it coming.

Kirk should have known- _somehow_- that the efficient, peaceful life he had managed to build for himself and his crew, would not last.

It was his job, after all- _he_ was the Captain, and this was his fault. His responsibility.

The planet had seemed quiet enough; sensor scans had revealed no humanoid life and nothing bigger than an Earth cat. They had beamed down in a jovial mood- even Spock had been almost smiling.

Spock.

_Fuck._ Spock had become so much more to him in the last year than Kirk had ever thought possible. First enemies; then reluctant colleague- to friend, and then to …whatever it was now. Lover? The term seemed hollow. Boyfriend was too childish. Spock had a word for it- he had a word for everything- but Jim could never remember it.

And now Spock was gone, was probably dead on that stupid, cold, _fucking _planet- and Jim felt more helpless than he had since he was a small boy.

The attack had come as a complete surprise. The landing party- Spock, Bones, Jim, two ensign security officers and a science officer- had barely unholstered their phasers before two of them fell dead, sharp blades shaped like boomerangs almost decapitating one and slicing the other's stomach. It was a chaotic mess- blood everywhere, the floor slick and sticky as the remaining four attempted to retreat, unable to see their attackers. They had no time to tend to Ensign Peters or Lieutenant Forrest; there was no hope for them and even McCoy did not protest as they ran for cover.

They ducked behind a boulder, the confusion and noise clouding their judgement- and Ensign Carruthers paid for it, as he raised his head above the rock to look for the enemy. His body fell, twitching- and his head followed after, blood gushing from his severed neck and covering Kirk, Spock, and McCoy in hot crimson liquid.

Spock, cool even in this nightmare, had opened his communicator, asked to be beamed up- and Kirk felt the transportation begin with a wash of almost painful relief. He had looked around at the others, and had been just in time to see another sharp bladed boomerang twisting through the air, a sharp whistling noise in its wake.

"_Spock!"_

Anguished, he watched as the glistening blade tore into his first officer's back, embedding itself into his flesh and causing a splash of green blood to come rushing out- just as he beamed aboard the Enterprise, his arm still out as he reached for Spock- who wasn't there, the sudden injury having caused him to stagger backwards at the critical point of transportation.

Of course they had beamed back down almost immediately, Kirk frantic and shaking- but there was no trace of any of their fallen crew members except the blood coating the soil.

And now here they were, orbiting the planet, and with strict instructions from Starfleet not to return to its surface- not even for Spock, who may still be alive. They were sending a specially trained unit out to them.

_And that won't be here for another two weeks- damn it, we've wasted enough time already._

There were no life signs on the planet- none that their sensors could detect, anyway. They had _nothing- _ no idea where to start looking, and Jim was falling apart, silently and devastatingly.

"Scan again."

"Captain- we've tried a dozen times already, I-"

"I don't care- again! Find something, _anything_."

Uhura returned to her instruments with a sad, understanding expression, and Jim continued to pace.

"Jim, you have to rest," tried McCoy, placing a gentle hand on Kirk's shoulder. He shrugged it off like it burned, wheeling to glare at his friend.

"Don't you fucking _dare_, Bones. Not now. Not Spock."

"Jim- I know, I know you're worried sick, but you can't help him if you're exhausted."

"I'm fine." _I have to be fine._ "I'm not giving up on him, you understand?"

"I know." McCoy stared at him for a long moment, his gaze troubled and unreadable, before shrugging, nodding almost imperceptibly and stepping back. "It's your call."

"It's _Spock,_ Bones. He wouldn't give up on me. I can't-" Kirk shook his head, wild-eyed. "I _know_ you're trying to keep me safe, I really do, but I'm not going to let him die, do you hear? I _cannot_ let him die down there."

"You can't save everyone, Jim."

"I _will_ save him."

Bones smiled without humour. "Even if it kills you- again. I know."

Jim felt a momentary pang of guilt- he knew that look, knew how well Bones hid his own pain about the memory of Kirk's death. He grimaced and grabbed the back of McCoy's neck, forcing him to look Kirk in the eye. "I _swear_ I will come back alive."

"You'd better, or _I'll_ kill you." It was almost a smile, a flicker of genuine amusement, and Kirk grinned briefly, nodding and releasing his friend before turning and beginning his circuit of the bridge once more. "Uhura- what have you got?"

"Captain- still no sign of any life forms. I'm sorry; they just- disappeared-"

"Don't say that- don't _ever_ apologise like you've given up, Lieutenant. Try again."

"Yes, Captain."

"What about the blood, Captain?" Sulu suddenly said, turning his chair to look at Jim hopefully. "If Spock was bleeding-" Kirk winced at the memory "-we could perhaps run a trace based on Spock's blood composition and follow it like a scent trail."

"Mr. Sulu, you might be a genius. Uhura, can you do that? Remember Spock's blood is copper based, adjust the sensors for that."

"Yes, Captain. It will take a moment."

Kirk gritted his teeth, looking over at McCoy anxiously as he waited. The doctor stood impassively, the only sign of his inward anxiety the flexing of his fingers as he waited with arms folded.

After what felt like hours, Uhura confirmed. "Running scan now, Captain. We should be able to see Commander Spock's blood as a light green line on the surface map."

They watched, barely daring to breathe, as a faint but distinct line appeared, beginning where the landing party had beamed down. It became stronger as it moved off towards the west, the line glowing brightly for a long stretch before fading once more, ultimately disappearing altogether only to reappear several miles away near a cave system where it stopped.

"They must have taken him in there," Kirk pointed. "I'll beam down-"

"Jim- you can't. Starfleet have ordered us to wait, as you damn well know."

Kirk straightened up and turned to look at McCoy. His heart thudded painfully in his chest, his breath tightened with panic and grief. "Bones. _Fuck _Starfleet."

"The regulations-"

"And _fuck_ the regulations, too. I'm going down there, _now."_

"Well fine. I knew you'd say that- just thought I should be the voice of reason since yours has left the building. I'm coming with you."

"No, you're damn well not-"

"I'm a _doctor_, Jim. I hate to say it, but it's likely he's going to need one."

Kirk hesitated, torn between protecting at least _one_ of his friends and the knowledge that Bones was right. The doctor stared him down, one eyebrow half raised. The gesture reminded him of Spock and his heart hurt with the memory.

"Alright. Just us though- I don't want anyone else taking the blame for this from Starfleet. Mr. Sulu- you have the conn."

"Aye, sir."

"And if Command try to talk to us- stall them?"

Sulu smiled, a twitch of his lips that made Kirk recall the last time Sulu had been left in charge. His confidence grew.

"Yes, Captain."


	2. Chapter 2

"Bones, you have to take a phaser."

"I don't know, Jim- I'm a doctor. I'm not really supposed to _shoot_ anybody."

"They have Spock. Take a phaser, damn it."

McCoy took the phaser with an exasperated sigh, fastening the belt around his waist awkwardly.

"You don't have to kill them, anyway- just stun them and it'll be fine."

"Is that what you'll be doing?"

Kirk fastened his own belt, checked his phaser and then slung a phaser rifle over his shoulder too, looking at McCoy grimly. "That depends what they've done to him."

They beamed down to the planet a mile from where Spock's trail ended entirely.

"You don't even know what they look like- how do you know these phasers will even work on them?"

"If they don't, I'll just beat the bastards to death with it."

"That's flawless as always."

"Shut the fuck up, Bones. I don't need your sarcasm right now." Kirk glanced over his shoulder to McCoy, his face etched in misery. "Please, just help me find him."

McCoy nodded and they set off towards the caves, wary and scared. Kirk felt like every nerve in his body was humming with electricity, knowing that he was running on pure adrenaline. It was almost comforting; every muscle tense and ready, his mind alert and clear except for the loud, thudding repetition of _Spock- find Spock-_ that reverberated through his skull. The planet was silent; eerily so, in fact. Not a bird, insect or animal seemed to be around, the day still and warm. It would have been perfect for shore leave.

The caves, too, looked quiet- no activity visible from the outside. Kirk stopped for a moment, crouching behind a large rock to survey the cave entrance.

"I don't see any guards. Bones, can you see if you can get anything on the tricorder?"

McCoy began scanning, the shrill noise of the machine setting Kirk on edge after the stillness of the planet.

"There are definite life signs in those caves, Jim. I can't get clear readings- all that rock is jamming the tricorder- but it looks like there's a whole army in there."

"Spock?"

"Jim-"

"I know, I know, you can't tell."

"I'm sorry."

Jim shook his head, impatiently. "Don't. Come on, let's get closer."

They moved again, stopping just outside the main entrance to the cave system.

"It's huge- how the hell are we going to find Spock in all that mess?" McCoy hissed.

"We have to. Come on. Have your phaser ready." Kirk pulled the phaser rifle from his shoulder and checked its settings. McCoy unholstered his phaser, giving it a distasteful glance as he did so. They entered the cave slowly.

It was dark, the roof of the cave narrow and low. Water trickled somewhere to their left, dripping steadily in the gloom.

"I can't _see,_" whispered McCoy urgently.

"Your eyes will adjust, keep quiet."

"Easy for you to say."

Kirk blinked a few times, the darkness softening to a grimy, brown tinged dimness. Stalactites hung from the cave ceiling, thick and uncomfortably sharp looking.

"Okay. This way. I think."

They walked as stealthily as possible, given the puddles of stagnant water at each step. Kirk was terribly, painfully aware of the sloshing of his footsteps, the echo of his breathing reverberating through the caves- at each corner expecting to be met by a guard. His heart thudded maddeningly in his ears, his mouth felt dry and stale as he fought to breathe quietly in harsh, gulping pants. McCoy followed close behind, his breath warm on Kirk's neck in the gloom. It seemed like they walked for hours, their backs becoming stiff with the constant half crouch to avoid the roof. In fact it was only twenty minutes- _Twenty-three-point-four, as Spock would say, _Jim thought sadly-before the cave hollowed out, becoming a large, open cavern. Kirk managed to stop dead at the opening, crouching behind a huge stalagmite just in time as a large, muscular creature entered the cavern from another entrance, clearly searching for something. In the gloom is was difficult to tell exactly what this alien looked like; it was bipedal and slick-looking, with dark, oily skin and eyes as black and flat as a fish. Jim thought it looked like a killer whale if it was given legs and a gun- and the thought did not comfort him. McCoy crouched behind Jim, staring in horror at the creature as it circled the cavern. Its heavy, wet sounding footsteps rumbled through the caves. Jim and McCoy crouched in mute, helpless fear as the alien passed them and continued its patrol. It was easily seven feet tall, Jim mused. Muscular like a bodybuilder- and definitely almost orca-like, its skin black and slick-shiny, what looked like a dorsal fin thrusting out from its uniform on the back. Mutated perhaps? He didn't think so; it was too perfect, too _comfortable_ to be a genetic mutation. The guard moved through another entrance in the cavern wall, and Kirk stood shakily.

"What the hell was that?" McCoy hissed urgently.

"Damned if I know- but I don't think we should stick around. C'mon, we'll go the way it came from."

"That sounds sensible."

"Bones, this isn't a game- it's Spock's _life_-"

"I know Jim," the doctor replied softly, patting Kirk on the shoulder. "I'm sorry."

Kirk shrugged and began to slink towards the opposite cave wall, his eyes narrowed as he desperately tried to see as much as he could in the dark.

The tunnel that this entrance led to _stank_. Like rotting fish and old, dirty laundry. The force of that stench was so strong that both men gagged with it, eyes streaming. They sagged against the cave wall, gasping for breath but hating the taste of the air. Eventually Kirk ripped a long strip from the bottom of his shirt, tearing it in half and handing one piece to Bones before tying his own around his face in a make-shift mask. McCoy copied him.

It helped- a little. The stink was still there, but at least a little muted, and so Jim carried on down the tunnel, now almost panicking outright. That smell was not healthy. Nothing they could be doing in this hell hole could be good.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:**

**Graphic-ish torture from here.**

The tunnel weaved its way deep into the cave system, the air getting progressively worse with each new corner. It was almost _thick_ with the smell now, and both Jim and McCoy's eyes watered relentlessly as they made their way through. Finally the cave opened up again, and the men crouched behind another large stalagmite for cover.

Three of the huge, lumbering aliens were in this room. One of them wore a set of slimy, greenish looking keys, and carried a large weapon which looked somewhere between a shotgun and a crossbow. They were talking loudly in a language Kirk couldn't understand- but he wasn't listening anyway, his heart in his mouth as he caught a glimpse of a cage behind the group of orca-creatures. In the cage, hanging naked from chains, was Spock. He was bleeding, badly; his torso was bruised and he looked almost dead, the uneven rise and fall of his chest Kirk's only indication that he was in fact alive. His head hung onto his chest limply, seemingly unconscious. Jim felt his rage spill through him like lava, and was ready to throw himself into the middle of these alien bastards-

McCoy grabbed him, held him steady, his eyes mutely pleading. _Don't you fucking dare die trying to be a hero_, they said, and Kirk calmed, nodding at his friend. He couldn't help Spock if he was dead.

He looked back towards the cavern, his brain working frantically.

And that was when the guard they had seen earlier came up behind them with incredible stealth and hit them over the head neatly, one after the other. They dropped to the floor unconscious with barely a sound.

Jim awoke to the screaming of his arms as they bore his entire weight, his hands numb and his whole back on fire with pain. Grunting, he fought to find his footing, managing to use his toes to ease the weight on the chains.

Everything was bleary, and the stench was even worse than he remembered. He turned his head and saw Spock, still unconscious. He looked even worse from this distance, his skin sallow and unhealthy looking from blood loss, his entire body a mess of mottled bruises and half healed wounds. Jim found himself most upset –stupidly-by his hair; it was messy, sticky with blood, and greasy looking. Spock would have been appalled at his appearance.

Glancing to the other side, he saw McCoy chained as he was, and just stirring, his face creased in pain. His eyes opened and met Jim's, and the fear in them returned within an instant.

"Where are we?" he asked, his voice cracking.

"About ten feet from the last thing you remember," Jim replied with a grimace. "We've joined Spock."

"Shit."

One of the orca-things spotted them and came over, its glassy black eyes shining wetly. There was light in this cavern; crude flame torches lined the walls. Jim wished there hadn't been, the orca-alien so much more disgusting in the light. It was the source of the smell- it radiated from the creatures like an almost visible halo. Its skin _was_ wet, like a fish just pulled from the ocean, and when it opened its mouth to speak, a row of sharp, serrated teeth gleamed in the low light. It said something to them in its own language, and Jim groaned in frustration, his head pounding from the blow and his patience worn thin.

"We don't understand you, you great overgrown trout!"

"He said," came a rasping, painful voice beside Kirk, "that he wishes you were fatter so that he could eat you."

"Spock!"

Spock had awoken, his head half raised and turned towards Jim. Kirk felt a huge wave of relief and love flood him for a moment- until he saw the despair and sorrow in the Vulcan's eyes and realised that he didn't expect them to escape from this.

_We'll see. I will get you out, if it kills me._

"Oi, fishface," he directed to the alien. "If you're going to eat me, you should probably unchain me first."

"It is of no use, Captain," Spock almost sighed. "I have attempted reasoning, threats, and pleading over the course of the last- how long has it been, Captain?"

Jim's stomach dropped painfully. If Spock couldn't tell the passing of time, then he must be really far gone. "Only three days, Spock."

"That little?"

The surprise and genuine anguish in that small question hurt Kirk more than even Spock's appearance.

Before he could say more, the door to his cage was opened and the largest of the orca-creatures stomped in, unchaining Spock who barely resisted. It carried him out to the cavern, tying him to a table made from the same slimy metal as the keys, and proceeded to yell at him in its strange, guttural language. Kirk could only guess at the questions from Spock's responses- clearly this conversation had happened before.

"I do not have access to the Federation's security codes," Spock said calmly. The alien spoke rapidly.

"Nor do I have authorisation to request them."

The orca-creature spoke again, this time wrapping a fist- huge and horrifically strong looking- around Spock's throat. Kirk struggled in his chains. "Get off him!"

"I believe I have already informed you that I do not know of any plans the Federation may be making regarding your home planet."

The fist tightened painfully, and Spock wheezed, Kirk throwing himself forward in his chains, yelling.

Another question, another unhelpful answer, and this time Spock was punched in his already clearly cracked ribs. He did not cry out, and this seemed to further anger the creature, who did it again with savage fury.

It went on for what seemed like hours, until Spock was bleeding freely again, his nose crunched under one vicious blow and green blood drying on his lips. Finally he was chained again, and the orca-creature turned its attention to Jim.

"He knows nothing-" Spock said desperately, through his pain and the swelling on his face. "Do not xhurt him-please-"

That Spock was pleading for him scared Kirk more than the straps he was tied down with, more than the wide, empty faces of the creatures looking down on him. He had never heard a Vulcan beg before, and it was gut-wrenching.

He didn't understand the first question, and he was punched in the face, pain exploding behind his eyes.

The second time, Spock began to translate for him, his voice flat and emotionless- more so than usual.

"He wants to know what the Federation want with his planet."

"Honestly, I don't even know _where_ your planet is-"

He was punched in the gut, the pain so intense he was rendered blind and breathless for a long moment. These aliens were _strong._

"Does the Federation plan to attack the planet of Thonasus?"

"I doubt they could find it on a map- fuck!" His rib cracked under the weight of the next punch.

It continued, Jim becoming steadily more desperate as the questions got more obscure and the pain clearer and clearer. The hot metal rod that slid through his flesh was a particular low point, the stench of the cavern replaced temporarily with cooking meat. The accurate, deadly punch to his groin was another, his bladder immediately giving way as he wet himself, too agonised to even be ashamed. Finally, blessedly, they appeared to be bored with him, throwing him back into the cell and chaining him up once more.

His relief turned almost immediately to horror, however, as they unchained McCoy and dragged him to the table. "Stop-he's just a doctor, he doesn't know anything!" he yelled, desperate to spare at least one of them the pain.

Spock, remaining calm in voice at least, spoke urgently to the orca-aliens, clearly trying to dissuade them. They were unmoved, however, and tied McCoy down silently. Spock turned his attention to the doctor. "Remain calm. Reply as though you are feeble minded and they may become bored quickly."

"Thanks for the tip," Bones replied sarcastically as the large creatures crowded him. Spock began the task of translating again, his voice low and even as though McCoy wasn't already screaming in pain. He tried to follow Spock's instructions, babbling nonsense and repeating his "I'm a doctor!" line until even he was sick of it, but the orca-creatures were merciless and unrelenting, systematically questioning him even when he could speak no more. Their final act of barbarism was to deliberately, carefully, break the bones of his left hand; the _crack_ and creaking of tendons loud and awful in the small cavern. Kirk vomited. Spock fell silent, his eyes unreadable.

Finally they half-pushed, half dragged McCoy back into the cage, this time not bothering to chain him up. They spoke, and Spock frowned as he translated. "They say you are to mend us- our injuries as best you can…for another interrogation."

"The-the hell I will," McCoy spat, swaying on his feet.

"If you do not," Spock continued, "they will kill us all now, as we are useless."

"I need my medical kit," McCoy muttered, glaring at the aliens with the one eye that wasn't swollen shut. Spock translated and they complied, pushing it through the bars of their cage.

Jim watched silently as Bones scanned Spock, holding his broken hand up close under his right arm to keep it still, and did the best he could with his limited resources; managing to somewhat fix his cracked ribs, close most of the worst wounds, and stop any infection in its tracks. "I don't like this, Jim," McCoy sighed. "I'm fixing you two up so that they can break you again."

"I'm sorry I got you into this," Jim said.

"Don't be stupid. I have two legs, same as you. I got into it myself. We couldn't leave your damned pointy eared boyfriend down here on his own, could we?" He moved to work on Jim, his work quicker here due to the relative freshness of the wounds. "You'll be fine. It's him I'm worried about," and he gestured to Spock, who was breathing quickly and looking glassy-eyed again. "He needs real treatment before he loses any more blood, or he won't make it."

Kirk eyed Spock worriedly. "He looks like shit."

"So do you," McCoy replied shortly, scanning his own hand in an attempt to see what he could do for it. Grimacing, he tucked it back under his arm. "This isn't going to heal here."

Kirk glanced up, noticing that the aliens were leaving the room. "Where are they going?"

"To sleep, Jim," Spock coughed out, his sides heaving with the effort. "They will return in the morning to continue the –" he couldn't finish the sentence, his head hanging low and his breathing hard.

"Spock. Spock! Stay with me," Kirk hissed, twisting his body as much as the chains allowed.

"That…is illogical, Captain, as I am unable to leave," the Vulcan mumbled without looking up, and Jim sighed in mingled relief and amusement. McCoy sat on the slippery floor, leaning gingerly against one reeking, damp wall. "I guess we should sleep, too," he said with a shrug. "Or try."

They fell silent.


	4. Chapter 4

The next time the creatures arrived, they had found a new strategy. Dragging both Jim and Spock out of the cage, one alien held Kirk as the others strapped Spock down and began a fresh wave of torture on the Vulcan's already broken body. _They're killing him,_ Jim thought desperately, fighting with the last remnants of his strength to get to Spock, and failing pathetically, wriggling like a fish on a hook in the muscular, reeking arms of the orca-creatures. "Spock," he choked out. "Stop- let him go, stop-"

This only seemed to amuse the aliens, who continued with their methodical, precise cuts to Spock's torso, drawing pleasure from Jim's pleas.

It then occurred to him that they _expected_ this to hurt- that they were expecting Jim to talk if Spock was being injured.

He fought harder against his captor, his breath coming in painful, tight sobs, his vision blurred with tears that he refused to let fall. He twisted painfully in the creatures arms, screaming into its blank face. "I don't know anything! None of us do, let him go- stop it, you're fucking killing him you bastards-_please-"_

The alien shoved him, hard, and he hit the slippery floor in a messy, agonised heap. He was lifted, groggy, as the creatures switched his place with Spock, strapping him securely and beginning to etch patterns on his skin with their jagged, filthy knife. It burned, white hot and urgent, Jim fighting nausea at the overwhelming pain on his battered body. Dimly, as if through a wall, he heard Spock's voice- nothing like his usual, methodical monotone, but harsh, guttural- _begging_ those creatures to stop hurting Kirk. He bit his lip hard to avoid screaming, not wanting to panic the Vulcan further, and eventually, mercifully, he passed out with the effort and the pain.

Each morning after that brought fresh horror; each of them once again brought out and tortured in turn in front of the other. Spock could barely scream any more, his throat hoarse and torn from his previous ordeals. Jim bit through his own lip in the attempt to stay silent. Their wounds became infected. Only McCoy was partially spared; the aliens seemed to have forgotten about him after his apparent feeble-mindedness, allowing him to cower in the corner of their cage in relative peace most days- if you could call it that, his eyes wide and scared as his two best friends were systematically torn apart, unable to help and do what he was supposed to. To the aliens, he was clearly deemed unnecessary, the non-platonic bond between the Captain and his first Officer their priority for destruction.

After several days, they resorted to drinking the water that pooled in the corner of their cage from the stalactite above. It was filthy, it stank, and it made them all retch until they were shaking and tears streamed down their cheeks, but it was _water_ and it was the only thing keeping them alive.

In their cage one night, all shaken and hungry, they began to talk among themselves. Jim found himself disgusted that he had adjusted to the smell.

"So they clearly think we know something about…whatever it is they're so worked up about."

"Jim, we cannot even comprehend what it is they are describing," Spock whispered through a cracked, parched mouth. "They believe the Federation to be … destroying their home world, invading it…this is impossible as the planet is not charted on our maps as of yet. I do not have a hypothesis."

"Well it seems like they are pretty convinced," McCoy coughed from the floor. "I don't know, Jim. How can we figure anything out while we're stuck in here?"

"Can we bargain with them?" Jim wondered aloud. "Are they open to reason?"

"I believe not," Spock replied. "I did attempt that course of action."

"They just think we know something and they're willing to kill us to find out, huh?"

"Indeed."

"Right then. We have to get the hell out of here."

"That had occurred to me, yes."

McCoy snorted. "Do please tell me how you plan to do that."

"I haven't worked that part out yet."

Jim twisted in his chains, painfully; this round of torture had been particularly brutal and he bore several deep wounds and burns on his torso that McCoy had only been able to partially heal. One wrist was also fractured; sharp, stabbing agony throbbing through it every time he moved. His lip felt hot and swollen. He faced McCoy as fully as he could.

"I swear Bones, we'll get out of this alive," he promised, low and furious.

McCoy shrugged, non-committal and vacant. Spock cleared his throat painfully.

"If it were anyone but you saying this, Captain, I would doubt them. As it is, I cannot help but believe you."

"Why Spock, that was almost human of you," Jim tried to grin, his heart warmed to hear Spock's affectionate tone of voice. He struggled around to face the Vulcan, worried about him; he was in a bad state, his whole body bruised and battered, his face drawn and a sickly yellowish colour. He wished desperately that he could touch him; hold him and make it all better. "Spock-" he began, but the Vulcan shook his head. "I know, Jim. I always know."

"Get a room," McCoy groaned from the grimy floor, and Jim huffed out a short, pained laugh. "Shut up, Bones."

"You gonna make me?" he replied, but there was little real humour in it- his broken hand was hot and agonising.

"Bones, I think I have a plan- What do you have left in your medical bag?"

They did not sleep, instead working on the flimsy, desperate plan that they hoped might get them out alive.


	5. Chapter 5

**AN:**

**Really short one this time- promise the next is longer, this just didn't fit into the next chapter.**

The orca-aliens arrived the next morning to find Jim and Spock apparently dead. They did not respond when hauled bodily from their chains, nor did they flinch when the orca-creatures prodded them with knives, twisting them into open wounds viciously. McCoy sat in his corner of the cage quietly, hoping they didn't notice that they had left the cage door wide open in their haste- and that they didn't notice him. The aliens muttered in their own language, lifting the limbs of the two unresponsive men with distaste.

Finally, seemingly satisfied, they hauled the bodies onto a pile of reeking corpses almost angrily, arguing amongst themselves as they left the cavern without a glance back.

McCoy counted to one hundred before he allowed himself to move.

He injected the two with a strong stimulant and sat back on his heels, holding his breath. The compound he had created was unstable, untested; anything could go wrong, especially with the Vulcan physiology.

He counted one minute, then two, his heart thudding against his bruised ribs and pulsing painfully in his shattered fingers.

Finally, their eyes fluttered open, Jim groaning almost theatrically as a headache the size of a truck hit him. "Fuck, Bones, that's like the worst hangover ever."

Spock made a grunting noise that sounded like agreement, and then said, muffled under Kirk's weight, "Could you possibly remove yourself, Captain?"

"Sorry," Jim hissed, rolling away and standing, reeling several times and staggering before catching his balance, every muscle in his body protesting from dehydration, blood loss and fatigue. "Oh, god this hurts."

"Well get used to it, fast," McCoy grumbled, wincing as he dragged himself off the floor. "We need to move."

They hauled Spock to his feet, holding him up against their shoulders, and began to exit the cavern, Jim grabbing their communicators and phasers on the way out. He shuddered to look back at the hell they were leaving; faeces and blood coating the walls and floor, the stench of fear, death and blood thick in the air. He wished fervently that no other unfortunate souls would end up here- and intended to try and ensure it.

The journey out of the cave system was terrifying; each footfall hesitant and hushed, each noise in the distance a terrible reminder of the urgency they needed to have- their progress halting and slow because of Spock's condition. Jim willed him on; murmuring softly to him all the way, anything he could think of. Endearments, promises, threats, all spilled from him in a long, unrelenting stream. Spock plodded grimly on, barely looking up or reacting to Jim's words. They quickly realised why they had not been rescued; several dead security officers were piled at various junctions in the caves, clearly the remains of what looked like three or four search parties. Kirk was too hollow, too exhausted to mourn their losses properly. It was too much to take in right at that moment.

Finally, they saw the quality of light beginning to improve, began to be able to pick out specks of dust floating in the watery light, and Jim desperately wanted to run- but he could not, not without leaving Spock, and that was unthinkable. The air became warmer, fresher; Bones stood straighter and moved faster, until they were practically dragging Spock along with them. They burst into sunlight with a gasp of pure joy- followed swiftly by agony as the light hit their unaccustomed eyes with the full glare of mid-day.

Kirk groped blindly for his communicator, calling his ship.

"Kirk to… to Enterprise."

"Captain Kirk! We thought you'd been lost!" came Sulu's excited voice, instantly. Jim grinned tiredly. "So did I, Mr. Sulu. Bring us home. Three to beam up."


	6. Chapter 6

The Enterprise was disorientating after their imprisonment. People whirled by, talking too loud, too fast. Lights were too bright. The air smelled strange.

Kirk could barely comprehend what was happening, not realising he was just exhausted. He was led to a medical bed, hooked up to an IV, and fixed up. He was asleep almost as soon as his head touched the pillow, only staying conscious long enough to check that Spock and McCoy were receiving similar treatment. Everything _hurt_ and everything was too much to deal with, but the relief- like nothing he had ever felt- of having his Spock back, of feeling his presence there, solid and comforting, was so intense that he couldn't formulate his emotion into words, nor could he express his gratitude to Bones for agreeing to go into that hell with him. He fell asleep with the half formulated thought in his head.

When he awoke, he was terrified for a long, confusing moment- he could almost _smell_ the fetid caverns he had been imprisoned in, could hear the creatures moving wetly, their guttural language harsh and alien. His heart raced as he fought his way back to consciousness, finally opening his eyes blearily to see the familiar, comforting light of sickbay and McCoy's concerned face hovering over him.

Jim grinned stupidly, light headed and relieved, and flopped back onto the bed. "Sorry Bones," he croaked, his voice feeling tight and raw. "Forgot where I was."

"I also experienced similar confusion when I awoke," Spock said quietly, and Jim twisted his head to look up at the Vulcan, who was gazing down at him with warmth and love in his eyes. "How long have I been out?"

"Three days, almost," McCoy shrugged, handing him a cup of water as Jim sat up a little. "You were pretty far gone."

"I feel like shit."

"You look like it too."

"Thanks. I feel a whole lot better." Kirk grimaced and finished his water before looking up at Spock again, squinting slightly in the bright light. "Are you alright?"

"I am perfectly recovered, Captain," Spock said with only a hint of hesitation. Jim raised an eyebrow in passable imitation of the Vulcan. He paused, and then continued. "Physically."

Jim nodded. He understood that the memories would take longer to heal than the wounds. Spock looked older, tired; paler than Kirk remembered him, and his stance was less rigid, more stooped. It was a little concerning. McCoy looked between them and rolled his eyes. "I'm fine too, thanks for asking," he interrupted, leaning into Kirk's field of vision.

"Sorry Bones," Jim chuckled, reaching up to pat his friend on the shoulder. He became serious for a second. "Thanks- for everything."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm going to go and leave you two to your big reunion. Spock," he spun on his heel and waved a finger threateningly at the Vulcan. "No sex. Dear god, I wish I didn't have to say this, but he is _not_ to be removed from that bed until I discharge him."

Spock nodded faintly, looking a little green around the ears. "Of course, Doctor."

"Hey, that's not fair, I'm perfectly capable of having sex-" Jim interjected. McCoy stared at him, appalled, until he closed his mouth again. "Fiiine." The doctor turned and left the room without another word.

Jim was left staring silently at Spock.

"Captain-" the Vulcan started to say, but Jim couldn't hold it in any longer, his eyes welling with tears as he reached up and grabbed at Spock's arm, dragging him closer, desperate to feel that he was _real_ and _here_. His fingers dug into Spock's forearm- surely painful, though Spock said nothing- and his other hand reached out to pull Spock's head down hard, kissing him as though he was drowning. The kiss became possessive, rough; each needing the familiar contact more than anything. When they pulled away, Spock was dark-eyed and breathing heavily. "Captain- _Jim-" _

"Hang on. Spock- fuck, I'm sorry I couldn't stop them hurting you, I should never have let them take you-"

"You did not _let_ anything happen. It was hardly your fault that I was-"

"I'm the _Captain_, Spock. It was my responsibility, and I got you and Bones hurt." Spock raised an eyebrow. "I believe you also got us out of danger."

"Almost too late."

"Jim," Spock said quietly, and there was a warmth and affection to his voice that made Kirk's heart stop for a second. "I never doubted you would save us all. You always do."

"That's not very logical," Kirk said, almost a whisper.

"I believe humans would say, 'I learned from the best.'"

"You're an ass," and Jim was crying again, shuddering painfully with each sob. Spock let him lean against him for long minutes until he was recovered. "I almost lost you- and Bones too- you know he came with me to get you without even hesitating?"

"I am most grateful to the Doctor."

"Spock-"

"I know. I must warn you-"

"You know we have to go back there at some point, Spock. We have to figure out why they're so angry with the Federation."

"I have already dispatched a communication to Starfleet command detailing our experiences and asking for any information as to those creatures. They were most concerned as to our whereabouts and had detailed a ship to come and assist. They are not precisely pleased with you. Of course I have assured them we are fine and will make a full report as soon as you are able."

"…you have?"

"Indeed. Furthermore I have done some research of my own, and have discovered the species we are dealing with. They are called the 'Torlan', and they are usually recorded as being a peaceful, exploratory race. This particular faction is clearly-"

"Mad?"

"-Not. As I was saying, the Torlan have already contacted the Federation, but as yet have not joined us. They are usually thought to be a compassionate, gentle species. The group we have encountered is large and widespread on their home planet- which, incidentally, the Federation have never even visited, let alone invaded. The faction these creatures belong to has little real power on their planet, but is allowed to exist simply because they would cause too much trouble to wipe out."

"So we have half of a rogue group of space-whales who think we're trying to kill them all?"

"…In short, yes."

"Great."

"Captain I must advise caution in dealing with these aliens."

"I know, I know. We're not going to go running back in there. I have a plan."

Jim leaned back against the pillows, feeling suddenly exhausted. "Fuck, Spock. I don't know how you're up and well already, I still feel like death."

"Vulcan physiology," Spock replied with an almost smug look on his face. "I will allow you to rest."

He hesitated, and then added, "I am…extremely grateful to you for returning to get me."

"You'd have done the same," Kirk grinned tiredly, twining his fingers through Spock's for a moment before letting go and waving him away. "Shoo. I'm sleepy."

When he awoke again, he was feeling much better. The healing process was all but finished, and he was out of the bed and stretching before McCoy could tell him otherwise. The doctor rubbed his face, exasperated, as Kirk pulled on his uniform, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Calm down, Bones, I'm fine," he ginned, slapping McCoy on the shoulder. The doctor rolled his eyes. "I can see that," he muttered, waving a scanner at Jim's face.

"Get that thing out of my face."

"Shut up."

Jim stood patiently for a long second before his eagerness took hold and he almost jogged out of sickbay. "Thanks Bones! Come to the bridge with me!" Without waiting for a reply, he disappeared into the turbolift and headed up to see his crew.

The familiar sensation- of coming _home_- hit him as he stepped out onto the Bridge. The hum of machinery, the gentle thrumming of the engine, the soft snatches of conversation between crew members; all of it was beautiful and welcoming. He took over from Spock, who was in his chair, and settled into it, the leather seat warm and comforting. Spock stood at his side as he always had, the familiar presence soothing. "Welcome back, Jim," the Vulcan murmured, quietly enough that no one else could hear the informal address. Jim smiled up at him gratefully for a moment before returning to business. "We have to find out what is going on in the Torlan home-world. Therefore, we must go there. Mr. Spock has already entered the details of the planet and our heading into the computers."

"But Captain, the Federation has never even sent a ship out there-" Sulu fretted, turning to face Kirk. "We can't possibly know how they will react-they contacted us on their own terms the last time –"

"I know, Mr. Sulu. I am aware of the dangers- and you should all know that I am not doing this with the approval of Starfleet, so cannot therefore _order _any of you to follow me. But I believe we _need_ to go there, to find out what it is they believe we are guilty of, before we can stop them. Starfleet are going to give me hell anyway, I might as well give them more fuel."

Sulu nodded, setting his jaw in the familiar way Jim knew meant _with you all the way, Captain._ It reassured him beyond measure.

"Plot co-ordinates for the Torlan home planet, Torlask."

"Aye, Captain. It's good to have you back."

"It's good to be back," Kirk grinned, taking a moment to glance around at each of his crew.


	7. Chapter 7

The journey to Torlask was long and boring. Jim allowed himself to sink back into the familiar mechanics of command, his injuries healing well and his mind clearer than it had been in months. He dealt with the loss of so many of his crew; sending careful, painfully detailed letters to their families that he spent hours writing. He sent his report to Starfleet, and after several heated arguments and a good measure of pleading, he gained permission to visit Torlask. He studiously maintained that he had not been going to regardless, not wishing to ruin his good grace.

He began to heal. Spock also seemed to be back to his usual self; their chess games had started again as though never interrupted, and they both studiously avoided discussing their imprisonment.

Bones, though, Kirk worried about. He was quiet, withdrawn; refusing to discuss what was wrong but seemingly always near the end of a bottle of brandy when off duty. His work never slipped, and so Jim could find no professional reason to pull him up- but he worried all the same, the doctor almost seeming to disappear into his mind at times. Kirk was anxious that the torture had left some severe mental scarring that only counselling could sort- but after attempting to broach the subject with McCoy several times, it was clear that he would have to come to that conclusion on his own terms or not at all. He watched from the side-lines as his friend began to spiral downwards into his own personal hell, and could think of nothing to help.

_I'll force him-order him to get counselling, _he often thought- but what good would that do? McCoy was as stubborn as Kirk himself, and if forced into it, would tell the counsellor absolutely _nothing._

So he was forced to wait it out.

"I just don't get it," he grumbled to Spock during a particularly heated chess game a few days later. "I've tried talking to him but he clams up tighter than you do about those pesky _feelings_ of yours."

Spock didn't rise to the bait, only huffing out a soft sigh as he took his move. "Jim. You and Doctor McCoy are very similar in personality. He is unlikely to discuss his problem with you for the same reasons as you- pride, stubbornness, and a need to look in control of the situation."

"Thank you for your stellar breakdown of my personality."

"I was not intending to offend, Jim," Spock replied softly, tilting his head. Kirk waved it off, shrugging. "Don't worry, I'm just frustrated."

"Indeed. Checkmate."

Kirk blinked at the board. "Huh."

"You were distracted," Spock allowed with a hint of a smile.

Standing, Kirk stretched his back with a satisfied grunt. "I'm sorry I keep doing this to you, Spock…I don't mean to share the frustration."

"Jim." Spock joined him, crossing the space between them in one stride and lowering his head to nuzzle at Kirk's throat. "I understand."

Jim hummed appreciatively, arching his head back to give Spock better access as the Vulcan sucked gently at his pulse point. Spock's arms wound their way around his back, kneading at his sore, tense muscles. Kirk groaned, wrapping one hand around the back of Spock's neck. He had missed this, the simple touch and warmth between them. There had been moments where he feared he would never experience it again.

"Fuck-" he muttered, burying his face into Spock's shoulder.

"Momentarily," was the soft response as the Vulcan bit down suddenly on Kirk's skin. Jim arched his back, dragging Spock towards him almost painfully.

"Bed," he managed to groan out. Spock almost lifted him, pushing him back effortlessly towards his bed and sending him sprawling onto the covers, winded and laughing. "Real smooth, Spock."

"I was not intending to be smooth, Captain," Spock replied, systematically removing Kirk's clothing. "However I believe you are under severe stress and wish to alleviate it."

"Jeez, Spock, I don't want a pity fuck," Kirk growled, pushing ineffectually at the Vulcan.

"I do not know that phrase," Spock replied, pausing in his attempt to pull off Jim's boots. "However I believe I can glean its essence and wish to assure you it is not the case. I always wish to-" he paused again, "-_fuck_ you."

Jim shuddered, his irritation gone. "I love it when you say that." Spock threw his boots behind them, removing his own clothes quickly.

"I am aware of this, Captain. Now be quiet for once." He pushed Jim back and straddled his hips, his fingertips caressing the hollow of Kirk's collarbones, ghosting across his healing scars with infinite gentleness.

"You heal well," the Vulcan commented softly, tracing one particularly vicious looking, jagged scar. "Soon they will look like nothing, like all the others." He dragged his fingers down over Kirk's arms, allowing his nails to dig in just enough to make Jim hiss through his teeth, arching his back to gain some friction. "Please Spock-"

"I told you to be quiet," Spock replied with patience. "Do not rush me; it has been far too long."

Jim groaned in frustration, his cock sliding against Spock's own erection where they were trapped between them, but said nothing. One side of Spock's mouth quirked a little in amusement at Jim's frustration even as he continued to tease the human, tracing idle patterns over his stomach and chest before digging in his nails almost viciously. Kirk tried to keep quiet but eventually he was too desperate.

"Spock- fucking hell- _Please _just fuck me already!"

"As you wish," Spock replied, and his voice was low and rough, all pretence of gentle teasing gone as he shifted back onto his knees, grabbing at Kirk's hips and pulling him closer. Jim scrabbled in the drawer beside the bed for a long, awkward moment, before tossing the bottle of lube towards Spock. "Hurry."

Spock merely raised an eyebrow, taking his time as he slicked up his cock and making sure that Jim could see everything. Jim almost whined in frustration, his breathing quick and harsh. His head fell back as Spock pushed one finger inside him, then two. A low groan escaped him as the Vulcan continued, Kirk pushing against those fingers greedily. Finally he could take no more, almost sobbing with arousal and need. "Please-"

Spock barely hesitated, snarling as he dragged Jim even closer before slamming his cock into the human with almost savage force. He stilled for one impossibly long moment, breathing hard and staring at Kirk with dark, narrowed eyes. Jim twisted his fingers into the bed sheets, his whole body trembling with a heady, intoxicating mix of pain and pleasure. His vision swam with tears for a second, the intensity of sensation a little too much to deal with. Finally, he gasped out a long, groaning breath, and nodded at Spock. The Vulcan needed no more invitation, pulling almost all the way out with agonising slowness before driving back in viciously, his nails dug into Jim's hips hard enough to bruise. Jim could do little except take it; his back arched and his eyes half closed as he looked up at Spock. The burning pain faded, eased into glorious, exquisite pleasure- it had been too long, too long by far since he had felt so _good_, so- stupidly, perhaps, since he was being fucked to within an inch of what he could take- _loved. _

_Fuck, this is how it should always be,_ he thought wildly as Spock half-smiled for a moment, feeling the thought through their physical contact. He grinned back, giddy suddenly, and then the Vulcan took hold of his cock with a non-too gentle _twist_ that had Kirk groaning and bucking his hips up into Spock's grip with desperate, painful need. "Fuck- please-" he managed to hiss through gritted teeth. "Do that again-"

"Do you perhaps mean _this_," Spock said too innocently, doing it again and almost making Jim scream. His thrusts became even harder, his expression darkening to an animalistic, primal lust that made Kirk forget to breathe for a second. He said nothing more; the teasing light gone from his eyes, and Jim tightened his grip on the sheets as he was fucked with a savage abandon that he thought he could never take, his moans gasped through painful, shuddering breaths as Spock continued with his deviously frustrating hand on Kirk's aching cock.

_Fuck, let me come-_ he thought, unable to speak the words, and Spock sent him back a message with the Vulcan equivalent of a mental smirk-

_Not until I do._

"Bastard-" he managed to choke out, but Spock ignored him, his thrusts becoming more erratic, his breathing harder and less measured as he neared orgasm. Kirk pushed himself up onto his elbows so he could watch as Spock came inside him, almost _roaring_, the echo of his pleasure bleeding through to Kirk's mind and triggering his own climax, the doubled sensations almost too much to bear. He collapsed onto his back, breathless and dizzy, his head buzzing like he was about to faint.

Spock rolled to lie beside him, his face serene and young- _so young, I forget he isn't hundreds of years older than me sometimes-_ and draped an arm across Jim's stomach. Jim mumbled a half-hearted protest, but it got him nowhere.

_I hope we get this forever._

"Jim, I can hear you thinking. Please desist."

"Sorry Spock," Kirk sighed with a smile, reaching to drag the covers over them.

"Really, Jim, you'll get bodily fluids all over the bed."

"Then we'll get them washed. Relax, I'm sleepy."

Spock grunted and said nothing more.


	8. Chapter 8

**AN: My apologies for the delay on this, folks - festive times and a few bouts of illness made me sort of useless for a while!**

They awoke only an hour later to Uhura, almost on the verge of panic- which alerted Jim immediately, knowing Uhura did _not_ panic under most circumstances. He hit the comm button after rolling out of bed.

"Kirk here."

"Captain, it's Doctor McCoy- you have to get to medbay _now." _

"On my way." _Shit. Shit- what the hell has he gone and done-_

Spock was already half dressed as Jim scrambled for his uniform. They sprinted for the turbolift, willing it to go faster as it hurtled down towards sickbay. The doors of the medical centre seemed ominous as they ran towards them, the hiss of as they opened sinister. Jim stared around wildly, looking for his friend and fearing the worst.

"Here, Captain."

He wheeled towards the voice, Spock right at his side. Uhura stood beside a biobed, her hands clasped around one of McCoy's where he lay, unconscious.

"What did he do?" and Jim thought- _you should have known, you knew something was wrong, had to know or why would you ask what he did and not what happened?_

"Drank himself near to death and then took an overdose of strong painkiller, according to the nurses," Uhura said softly, her eyes worried even though her tone was measured. "Captain- it seems as though it was deliberate."

Jim nodded, his throat dry. Spock placed a hand on his shoulder silently. "Will he be okay?"

"They told me he would make a full recovery, yes," Uhura replied gently. "But- Captain- he needs _help."_

"I know," Kirk said miserably. "I've been telling him that since we got back."

"I think he needs more than _telling,_" she shrugged, releasing McCoy's hand and stepping back. Kirk took her place by his side, one of the nurses bringing him a chair. He ran a hand through his hair, exhausted and scared. _What do I do, Bones? Tell me how I can help. _Spock let his hand stay on Jim's shoulder, and Kirk was grateful beyond measure that the Vulcan didn't try and speak. McCoy looked pale, tired; dark circles under his closed eyes and his cheeks pinched and white. He looked almost like a corpse already, and it twisted Kirk's gut to think that he could have potentially stopped this.

_Should have forced him to get therapy. Should have ordered it, shouldn't have let him ignore me, oh fuck this is all my fault, I shouldn't have took him with me-_

"Captain." Spock's soft voice soothed him a little, and Kirk leaned back against him for support. "Jim. It is not your fault."

Kirk shook his head miserably. "He's my best friend, Spock."

"He is also my friend, and he would not blame you for this."

Sighing, Jim forced himself to relax, huffing out several deep, shaky breaths. "Okay. I'm okay."

With a firm nod, Kirk squeezed McCoy's hand. "I swear Bones, I won't let you down again." Then he stepped back, allowing the nurses to return to monitoring his vital signs. Spock dropped his hand back to his side, giving Jim space that he hadn't known he needed.

"We have to figure out what's going on," Kirk said as he turned to the Vulcan. His eyes were bright and sharp. "And then we have to make those bastards pay."

Spock merely nodded and let Jim lead the way to the Bridge. He didn't even remind the Captain that they were thirty minutes early for their shift.

Kirk spent the next four hours alternating between tapping his fingers on the arms of his chair and fielding questions from Starfleet about what his plan was, _exactly_. It wasn't that he didn't _have_ a plan, specifically; it was more that he didn't want _everyone_ to know it. Personally, Jim felt it should have been the end of the matter that Starfleet had granted permission for them to visit. He did realise, however, that the Federation had a huge interest in winning Torlask over to joining them and didn't want the opportunity wasted.

It didn't make him any more interested in telling them.

McCoy was stable; he continued to remain unconscious for the next few days, but his vitals were steady and strong and Jim's anxiety eased a little. The nurses kept him updated so frequently that it became an almost joke with his bridge crew despite their worry. Spock remained at his side, silent and calm throughout the rest of the journey. Only Kirk knew he was worried about McCoy, and he was too grateful to embarrass his Vulcan officer in front of the crew by mentioning it.

Finally, he got the call that the doctor was awake, and he was in sickbay almost before the message was finished, Spock remaining on the Bridge.

"Bones," he gasped, breathless, as he skidded into the room. McCoy was sat up, already grumbling at a nurse about his pillows. He glanced over at Jim with a sour expression. "What? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Kirk grinned and jogged over to his friend's bed. "I think I have," he replied.

"Ah, don't you start. I've already had every nurse in this damn place tell me how happy they are to see me." His tone was almost normal, but his eyes were haunted and sad; nothing had been fixed, nothing was okay. Jim's heart sank a little as he reached to grasp McCoy's shoulder, taking a deep breath. "Bones- Doctor McCoy, I have to order you to attend counselling."

"Like hell you do."

"I'm sorry, but I do. You- you have to, Bones." _For me, if not yourself._

"I'd rather listen to Spock talk about philosophy," Bones grunted, but made no further effort to dissent. _He's given up fighting. I hope it's because he knows he needs this._

"I'll assign you someone nice," Kirk added encouragingly.

"Don't go out of your way on my behalf," McCoy drawled, rolling his eyes.

Jim smiled and smacked the doctor non-too gently on the arm. "Anything for you, Bones," he said, trying to stay cheerful despite his nagging worry. "Don't go anywhere."

"Don't you tell me what to do in my own department, Jim," came the muffled retort as Kirk left the medbay.


	9. Chapter 9

They had been orbiting Torlask for two hours now; Jim had already gathered his small landing party. Spock, obviously. Sulu could be potentially useful in a fight. Uhura was coming too; her linguistic skills were unmatched- if anyone could figure out their bizarre, guttural language, she could. She had already been studying the scraps of information Spock had been able to provide her with, and she was confident she had a basic grasp of at least part of their speech. McCoy was staying on board; he was uncharacteristically quiet, the counselling sessions he was attending taking a lot of his energy. Jim was hopeful that they were working, though Bones gave no indication either way. Still, there had been no repeat of the incident the week before, and so Kirk remained quietly optimistic, his heart aching for the pain his friend was going through even as he was impatient for him to be back to normal.

They stood on the transporter pad, the two security officers Kirk had assigned looking nervous as they took their places alongside. Jim tried to smile reassuringly at them, but knew it looked hollow; he too was nervous, the potential for danger huge. He only hoped his plan would work as he ran his fingers across the collar of his disguise.

They beamed down silently, glancing around nervously. Scotty had done his job well; they were in a deserted corridor between two buildings. Jim frowned, instantly unsure of himself. This place didn't stink like the fetid cave he had been held in. In fact, it didn't smell at all- the air fresh and clean. The buildings they were between were angular, harsh and functional looking but still clearly made by intelligent, organised creatures. They were a dusty grey-brown colour, like that of the sand beneath Kirk's feet. He licked his lips, glancing to his crew.

"Let's go. Remember; we are traders. Spock is a Romulan merchant. Let me do most of the talking." Everyone nodded, Spock taking a moment to adjust his Romulan robes. Jim took a deep breath and stepped out between the buildings confidently, his head high. He forced himself not to react as he saw the first Torlan since their capture. His every muscle screamed at him to run, to escape, as the familiar, blank-eyed stare turned his way. He struggled, and won, with his instinct, instead raising a friendly hand. "Greetings!"

The Torlan grunted something back at him in its own language. Kirk stopped, waiting for Uhura to work out if it was "hello" or "I will destroy you."

"He said, greetings, traveller," she hissed to him. "I think. Either that, or 'table lotion'."

"Let's go with the first."

Jim nodded, smiling widely and –he hoped- slightly stupidly. Spock bowed his head gracefully beside him. "We are here to trade," Kirk tried. Uhura spoke haltingly, consulting her notes. The Torlan blinked its black, flat eyes, the wide, orca-like face still and intimidating. Then it replied to Uhura, clearly giving her its full, almost respectful attention.

"Move in front of me," Kirk whispered, pulling her up to his side. "They like you."

With barely any hesitation, Uhura smoothed down her jacket and stepped up. They spoke; the Torlan growing increasingly interested, tilting its head and stepping closer towards the Lieutenant. Uhura looked tiny compared to it, and yet she stood fearless. _I wish I could do the same,_ Kirk grimaced inwardly, his skin crawling at the proximity of the thing.

Finally, the Torlan bowed deeply to Uhura, giving her some kind of directions with its huge, meaty hand. Uhura bowed in return, reaching into her backpack and offering the alien a small glass ball which it took reverently before leaving.

"Okay," she breathed, turning back to Kirk. She looked relieved and triumphant; her face radiant. Jim couldn't help but grin at her, clapping her on the shoulder. "You are amazing. What have we got?"

"His name was K'thun. He told me where we are likely to get the best deals for our wares- and more importantly, who we need to speak to. I know the names of several leaders of the rogue faction, I know the whereabouts of the leaders of the Torlan themselves, and I know roughly where we're going. It seems that the Torlan in general are also less than pleased with the troublemakers."

"Then let's get going!" Jim almost laughed, gesturing at her. "Lead on, Lieutenant, and we will follow."


End file.
